


persistence of memory

by hypatheticallyspeaking



Category: Bleach
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe, F/M, HKSS 2018, Memory Loss, Shinigami Karin Kurosaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypatheticallyspeaking/pseuds/hypatheticallyspeaking
Summary: Toshiro knows that Karin has lost her memory from the World of the Living. So he keeps his mouth shut and watches. Having a cold demeanor has never benefitted him more. He just hopes that this is right.Karin knows that there's something different about the Captain of the Tenth Division. She's just not sure what.2018 Hitsukarin Secret Santa





	persistence of memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rinusagitora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinusagitora/gifts).



Toshiro spots her in the training grounds of the academy, jet-black hair falling out of a ponytail as she dodges and weaves around her sparring partner. The years had been kind to her; she must have been an athlete at her university. She’s gained abilities, and he has no doubt that she’ll do much better against hollows as a Shinigami than as a teenager with a soccer ball.

She parries the blade of her sparring partner, stepping past the range of his blade. Smirking, she wedges a foot between her opponent’s legs before using her off hand to push him off balance. He staggers, taking the moment to re-steady his footing. In that moment, she jumps into the air and knocks him into ground with her two knees immobilizing his arms against the tatami mat. The flat of her Zanpakuto rests against his throat.

Their teacher claps, signaling the end of the sparring match. Toshiro’s tempted to applaud as well, but he’s supposed to be observing for potential candidates to recruit to his division. He didn’t expect to see a familiar face.

“You win, Kurosaki,” the pinned student grumbles. “Let me up.”

She does, offering a hand to her classmate. “You’re getting better.”

“Still can kick your ass if we’re just using Kido,” the guy quips back, taking her hand. He’s a kid, not much older in appearance than Toshiro was during his years at the academy.

“You know, you had less sass as a parakeet,” Karin replies.

“You’re only saying that because then I wouldn’t be able to cast Kido—oh, hello.” The boy bows in greeting, most likely due to the fact that he’s in captain’s robes.

Karin abruptly follows suit.

“Captain Hitsugaya of the Tenth Division,” their teacher introduces.

“Yuichi Shibata,” the boy declares, “Nice to meet you, Captain.”

Toshiro nods.

“Karin Kurosaki.”

He pauses, waiting for a quip of ‘but you already knew that,’ but it never comes.

“It’s nice to finally meet one of the captains,” she tacks on, and there’s a nervousness in her eyes, like she’s said something wrong.

“Likewise.”

For once, he almost wishes she’d make a comment about his height—although he’s taller than her now—or tease him about being an old man. Instead, it’s as though she’s forgotten who he is altogether.

So, he strikes up a conversation with them as they take a break. They’ve grabbed some tea and are observing other academy students.

“You knew each other in the World of the Living?” He doesn’t let his eyes drift from the other students, but his entire focus is on the conversation he’s having. For once, he’s grateful for the fact that his resting face is as cold as Hyorinmaru’s ice.

Karin shrugs, and the boy takes the opportunity to speak. “She helped me when I was being targeted by a hollow. She could even see them as a human. I mean, I guess it comes with their family…”

“Yeah,” Karin grumbles, “If I could remember it. Hell, my brother visited me, and I couldn’t remember his face. Apparently, he’s the only Substitute Shinigami?” She puts down her tea, adding, “Hell if I know what that means… But I’ve met several captains before and don’t remember them. Sorry if you’d heard of me and were expecting something different.”

“I hadn’t heard any stories.” He’d lived them. He should say something else too. “You’re a good fighter,” a smirk before adding, “A lot like your brother.”

She stands up and bows. “And if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I’m going to go tear apart some training dummies.”

Shibata lets out a low whistle as she leaves. “She kept her temper. That’s a first.”

He ruffles the academy student’s hair—he’s a good kid for a first-year student, he’ll go places. To himself, he mutters, “At least she didn’t call me an elementary student this time.”

“This time?” The confusion on his face is evident. “But you said—”

Toshiro grimaces. “Didn’t lie.”

 

Karin knows there’s something off with this Captain. He knows _something_ about her. He watches her whenever he visits. No more than any other academy student, but there’s something in his demeanor that changes. He’s more guarded around her.

She asks her classmate-slash-former-parakeet (she’s going to lord that over him for centuries) about the white-haired Captain. The shrug she gets doesn’t quell her suspicions.

She watches him, and yes, he’s exactly what she would expect from a captain with an ice Zanpakuto.

So, she forces her curiosity about him to the back of her mind.

 

Four years pass by like one long exhaled breath. The Academy graduation passes without much aplomb, but he earns one new member to his squad at the end of the ceremony.

Matsumoto welcomes their newest recruit first, her ditzy demeanor generally more appealing to the newest additions to the Tenth Division. He stays back, not because his mouth is dry, but because he’s spent three years enforcing his coldhearted persona during his academy visits.

He knows it’s self-protection, an icy armor that’s freezing his soul with every lie.

But he’s too terrified to stop.

Kurosaki—the now-older, orange haired one—is also there, congratulating his younger sister. Toshiro watches their embrace, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He can see moments of his former Captain in their actions, the overly-tight hugs and loud laughter.

“I’ve missed you, Karin,” Ichigo declares, hands on his younger sister’s shoulders and pride in his voice. 

“It feels like you visited just yesterday.” She averts her gaze.

“You still don’t remember me, do you?”

“I’m sorry.” She hangs her head, as though it is a valid source of shame. “I remember flashes of Yuzu, finally.”

“Don’t be.” He ruffles her hair, and she instinctively knocks his hand away and delivers a blow to his gut. “You’re a brilliant Shinigami.”

“Third seat? I damn well hope so.” The crooked smile on her face is one of usually-reserved pride.

“Shikai?”

“I think you mean Bankai.” It’s not arrogance.

“Third seat in Dad’s old Division. He’d be proud.”

“More embarrassing than you?”

“Oh, a million times more.”

She laughs, and Toshiro knows that his withholding her past—their past—will come to bite him in the back someday. He’s one of the few who has kept watch over her improvement without getting too close. He’s the only one who deemed it dangerous because of her missing memories.

Somehow, being present in this moment and all of those before makes it worthwhile.

He finally approaches her once the others have cleared away. She’s sitting on a hill in the distance, black hair fanned out behind her as a result of gentle gusts of wind. It is reminiscent of how they’d first met, all those years ago in the world of the living—a stray soccer ball and a hill.

She’s picking at the grass, a calm expression on her face.

“Congratulations, Karin.”

“Thanks, Captain.” The genuine smile is one that he knows he’ll see again in the future, but he revels in this moment. “I can’t believe I ended up with a seat.”

He pauses next to her. “You deserve it.” She’s a prodigy, moreso than him. And while it should irk him to no end, he’s instead ecstatic. He’ll get to see her in action. They’ll work together.

“There’s no favoritism?”

“You didn’t get the position because of your father or your brother. It’s all on your own merit.”

“Thank you.”

Toshiro turns to look at the sunset. “You do know that means you’ll be the one helping Rangiku with paperwork, right?”

Karin groans. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t joke,” she says, staring up at him dumbfounded.

“You’ve talked to me a handful of times.”

She arcs an eyebrow, her expression all-telling.

“Well, at least you don’t hate your commanding officer.” He stands, unsure of what else to say to her in this moment. “Congratulations again.”

 

Karin has worked with Captain Hitsugaya for three years, and she’s still unable to get a read on him.

She knows he drops his guard around Hinamori. And Rangiku. And the other members of the Tenth Division. But he adamantly refuses to let her see his humanity. Sometimes, she’ll catch him watching her. Other times, she’ll find that he’s flash-stepped into a fight that she could have handled.

They’ve managed to find a balance of her fire and his ice.

She thought she’d understand him by now.

They’re in the World of the Living, fighting off a handful of Menos Grande. Karakura has been—as always—a hotspot for hollow activity and for any abnormal activity of humans with exceptional spiritual pressure. It’s not the first battle they’ve fought here, and it’s far from being the last.

Karin breathes slowly as a Menos blasts a cero right past her ears. She scowls—her hair is singed, and she’d finally grown it back from the last fight. She readies her blade, calling forth her Bankai. It sends a compressed spear of fire through the mask, and she’s decreased their number of enemies by one. She makes quick work of a handful more, but the exertion of utilizing her Bankai leaves her sweating, breathing heavily, and fatigued.

There are only two more when she’s caught unaware. The exhaustion from keeping her Zanpakuto in its awakened state leaves her limbs leaden and her reactions dull.

Behind her, there’s a loud shout, and she finds herself shielded by Hitsugaya as he manages to push her out of the way, taking the full brunt of the attack with little-to-no defense of his own.

She can’t tell if he’s breathing.

Her vision flashes red-hot rage and desperation, and she brings forth the strength from a source yet-untapped. In that moment she is fury incarnate, a fire blazing at her back as she commands the flames that lick up the sides of buildings. A soul-wrenching cry escapes her lips as she shoots forth more fire, bringing the threat to the town to its demise.

She falls to her knees as the power subsides, and she succumbs to the darkness of sleep.

 

He wakes in a gigai. His limbs are heavier than his spiritual form.

It’s not the worst sensation; he’s done it before on his extended trips to the World of the Living.

What he is unaccustomed to is the additional weight of a head resting atop his chest. He lifts his gaze, finding a familiar face asleep as well. Karin is resting, and her position beside him indicates that she fell asleep at his bedside.

The room itself is that of a hospital. The ceiling lights are off, and faint light filters in from the open window. The sound of cicadas provides a harmonic background as he works his mind through the memories of what has happened. He remembers their mission and—he inhales sharply—he took the full brunt of an attack to protect Karin, tossing his own safety aside.

It’s not as though the fact he did so surprises him. He’s known that the feisty woman would most likely be his downfall, but he hadn’t been thinking in that sense. He thought it would be losing her.

His face flushes as he realizes that Karin is still asleep.

Which means he can’t leave. He lifts a hand to gently shake her shoulder, and her eyes snap open. Her violet gaze is unfocused by sleep, and he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What happened?”

Karin’s voice is a combination of affectionate and angry; truly, he expected nothing less. “You took a fuckin’ cero for me, Toshiro, that’s what happened.”

“Are you okay?”

She laughs drily, “I’m perfectly fine. You’re the one who was on the verge of dying.”

“How am I alive?”

“Karakura may have been where we were stationed for years, but I still have family here. And connections,” she adds, gesturing to his body. “That gigai took about five uncashed favors from when I was alive.”

“Urahara?”

Karin hums. She sits up, stretching—the position she had fallen asleep in must have been uncomfortable. “Speaking of, he’ll probably be stopping by to check in on some modifications.”

He drags himself up to sitting, propping himself up against a pillow. “Of course he would.”

Her brow furrows. “Toshiro?”

“Yes?”

“I’m getting memories back. Especially over the past few days.”

“Oh. And you’re remembering what?”

“My family, my friends.” She pauses, meeting his gaze levelly. “And for some reason, a few memories of you.”

He swallows. “Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew me when I was alive?”

He wants nothing more than to avert his gaze, to add another lie to the preexisting mountain of half-truths and carefully-avoided topics. “You _died_ , Karin.” _You didn’t remember me._

“We were friends. I looked forward to every time you came to visit.”

He bites down on the inside of his lip, and the pain comes tenfold as a distraction. “It hurt, okay?” Toshiro takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I could see you beating yourself up every single time your brother visited. Every time the others talked about him and your family. Just because you couldn’t remember.”

“But that was _my_ problem!”

“I didn’t want you to hurt more than you already were. I wanted you to live your life. Not be tormented by how unjustly _short_ it was.”

“Oh.”

A silence falls, awkward as they refuse to meet each other’s gazes.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and it’s so soft that he wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks it’s a hallucination.

He must be imagining the response of “me too”.

But as she takes his hand in hers, he knows that this is a reality he can live with.

 

Centuries pass.

 

They sit atop a hill at sunset. Karin rests her head on his shoulder as he tells her about his day and the mountains of paperwork Matsumoto left him with. She chuckles, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They’ve had countless fights.

They’ve disagreed.

They’ve not spoken for days.

But they’ve survived.


End file.
